Chapter 15 Cendi
CENDI
Ava and Drew reached the library not long after we did.
Rain clung to Ava’s jacket in a dark sheen.
Drew carried a case that clicked in a way that made Maple’s charm give a nervous little blink.
Maple mouthed sorry for the blink and vanished into the stacks to give us space, which was her way of helping and also not being shooed.
“We’re going to run the trace here,” Ava said.
We cleared the long table by the windows.
Jessie stacked our notes. Jaylyn set the shutters to be half opened, so the light stayed steady.
Robbie stationed himself at the end of the table, where he could reach anything heavy.
Drew laid out instruments that looked more practical than pretty.
A shallow brass bowl. A few vials of herbs.
Ava turned to me. “I need something of yours.”
I pulled a strand of hair from my head and handed it to her.
Ava dropped it into a bowl, then added some herbs on top of it.
With her hand hovered over my strand of hair, she whispered a few words in Latin while pushing magic into the pile.
Lines ran out from the center into fine paths of magic, then snapped toward the north window as if tugged by a string.
“Anchor acquired,” Ava said. “She wore you to take the key because it was the only way she could touch it. The key remembers the hand it accepted when it took your blood. We’ll ride that memory’s threads.”
Ava slid a hand into the threads and closed her eyes. She frowned and then took Drew’s hand with her free one. The magical threads wobbled, then settled and stretched again.
“First pull to the east gate,” she said, her words choppy as if she were dictating the scenes as she sees them in her head.
“Then a break. Then south to the road. Short ride. Transfer. West for three hours. Urban noise. A rental car that wasn’t returned to its original lot.
The signature smears there, which means a charm wrapped it or she wrapped herself. ”
Ava frowned and continued. “Two gas stops. A motel where the sign flickers and someone named Don keeps spare keys in a coffee can. Then farther west. Coast air. Salt and fir.”
“Keep going,” Drew said. “If you do, we’ll find her.”
Ava nodded and pushed out more magic. That time I could sense Drew’s magic aiding hers, which was a surprise. I realized that they were magically bound. I remembered reading about witches, and other magical beings, being able to bond like shifter mates did, but it took a powerful spell to do it.
“The Oregon coast,” she said. “Near a town that sells clam chowder under three different names and argues about which one is authentic. Not Cannon Beach. South of that. Inland a touch. Old logging road. Derelict structure. Small and stubborn.”
Robbie gave a short nod. “I know the kind,” he said. “Tin roof if any. Floorboards that don’t trust you.”
Jessie looked at me. “We go,” she said, simple and sure.
Drew had already packed the case. Ava capped the vial. Maple appeared silently with a handful of travel charms for the room and pretended she had meant to pass through anyway. She pressed one into Jessie’s palm and one into mine and tucked the rest into Drew’s hand without ceremony.
“Bring the key back,” she said, trying to sound bossy and landing on kind.
We touched the charm together and thought of salt and fir and a road that forgot where it was supposed to go. The library pulled away. The smell of paper gave way to wet pine and old smoke. We landed in the cover of trees where a path had once been road and now had ideas above its station.
Mist hung in the air close to the ground. Alder and spruce crowded our shoulders. The ocean’s breath threaded through it all. Drew lifted a hand for quiet. Ava closed her eyes and memory threads appeared, leading toward the source.
“There,” she said, pointing.
The cottage didn’t deserve the title. Roof half caved. One shutter barely held on by a hinge. A porch that had once greeted hunters and now greeted raccoons. Somebody had swept recently. The sweep alone made it worse. Abandoned places should not look expectant.
We moved in carefully. Drew walked first. Jessie watched the windows. Jaylyn flanked. Robbie’s shoulder brushed mine on purpose and I let it, because comfort has a job to do and tonight it was hired. We opened the door with caution, then froze in the doorway.
A figure stood just across from us with her back against the wall where the light doesn’t love to reach.
Tall and wiry. Straw-blonde hair tucked behind one ear.
A nose a fraction too long for her face.
She turned her head and for half a second she was me again and not me at all.
My stomach tightened. My hands didn’t shake. I named that as progress.
We stepped inside. Nobody moving fast but spreading out just a bit as we studied the strange woman in front of us.
“Seraphina Larkspur,” Ava said, calm and sharp. “We’d like our key.”
She laughed. It came out wrong on my mouth and then corrected itself. “Fizz,” she said. “Only my enemies call me Seraphina. Or people who want to sound important.” Her gaze moved over us like a showman picking a mark. She chose me. “Hello, darling. Sorry I had to borrow your form.”
“Give it back,” I said.
Her edges faltered as if someone had rubbed the glamour with a thumb. The nose shortened. The mouth softened. A new face arrived and then tried to hide its mistake with confidence. She ended up somewhere between a girl who had been told too many lies and one who had told them first.
“Why run?” Jessie asked. “Why this place?”
“I ran because hunters hate fun,” she said lightly, then dropped the act with an impatient sigh. “Or maybe I ran because a witch has her hooks in me, and she doesn’t forgive missteps.” She tipped her head. “And you’re here to ruin my morning.”
“It’s afternoon,” Jaylyn said.
Fizz waved that away. “Time is rude.”
Ava’s expression stayed neutral, which was how you knew she minded everything. “You took a key that doesn’t belong to you. We’re giving you a chance to tell us why or we take you and pry the story out in a room that has fewer drafts.”
Fizz’s gaze slid toward the far corner as if the room might tell her what to say.
When nothing helpful arrived, she switched to honesty.
“I was at a tavern on the wrong side of a crossroads disguised as the sister of a powerful witch because I wanted free drinks. I placed the sister’s mole a hair too far to the left.
The witch saw me and knew instantly I wasn’t her sister. ”
She pushed off the wall and stepped into the weak light.
“She demanded a debt. She told me to bring her the key that opens all doors. I laughed because I didn’t think a key like that existed.
" She showed her palms. Scars traced the heel of one hand where something hot had kissed skin too often. Maybe the key? Because she wasn’t really me?
“She told me where to find the key and that I needed to become you.”
“Why me,” I asked, because the answer mattered for my peace of mind.
Fizz shrugged. “She didn’t say. But she told me where to look and handed me a smuggled draught that made wards tolerate me for six breaths at a time and told me to become Cendolyn Ault.
I tried three other skins first. Burned my palms for the trouble.
You worked.” She gave me a grin that would have sold rain to a drowning man, then let it drop.
“I’m not sentimental about it. I’m practical. ”
Ava closed the distance by two steps and stopped. “You have the key,” she said. “Produce it now or we can take you to the Hunter headquarters and find more creative ways to get our answers.”
Fizz drummed her fingers on her jacket seam. “If you take it, I lose my one chip, and I would still owe the witch. That doesn’t seem like a good deal to me. I know it isn’t. We all know it isn’t. Forgive me for not throwing a party.”
“You can keep the bargain,” Drew said, “or you can fix the problem.”
She breathed out through her teeth and searched the porch rafters for an answer that wasn’t there. “She knows you’re here,” she said finally. “She probably knows I’m talking to you guys. She’ll kill me if I make her look foolish.”
Jessie’s voice went gentle without losing its edge. “We won’t throw you back to her. We walk in and make her say out loud what she wanted and why. Then we take away the tool she wanted you to steal and cancel your debt.”
Fizz looked at me again as if trying to read whether I had something in me that would break. “You believe that,” she said, not quite a question.
“I do,” I said. “I’m done letting bullies win.”
“Where is the witch?” Ava asked.
“Crossroads tavern up the coast,” Fizz said. “I was supposed to meet her there. She’ll be there, unless she got bored and made a new plot.”
I held Fizz’s gaze. “We can make this right. Just trust us.”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
“Then we move,” Drew said. “Fast and quiet.”